


Indian Summer

by mrs_leary (julie)



Series: Indian Summer [1]
Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: Age Difference, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-10
Updated: 2009-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-28 07:10:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/mrs_leary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colin is in love with Bradley, though alas Bradley is straight. But Colin is willing to spend an afternoon with a friend who cares just as much for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indian Summer

♦

### fondness

  


Colin Morgan was an excellent actor. Truly excellent. Perhaps in time, perhaps after many years had passed and Richard was no longer so swayed by partiality, then it would become clear that Colin was the best actor Richard had ever had the honour to work with. But occasionally he failed to convince. As in this moment.

Richard and Colin were sitting beside each other at the far end of the row of directors chairs, both of them with books on their laps, waiting for the next scene they would be filming. Pierrefonds’ abundantly leafy trees towered over them, blessing them with shade, and the thick grass provided the illusion of coolness for their booted feet. And they were facing the castle’s car park where Bradley was currently filming a swordfighting scene. Youthful, beautiful, insightful, talented, golden–haired Bradley James. The epitome of an English prince.

Colin was poised as if he’d just happened to glance up from his book at that very moment, distracted perhaps by a sudden surge or crash of action. The tip of his long first finger marked his place on the page, and he frowned a little as if resenting this interruption. What gave him away wasn’t so much that his gaze tracked Bradley’s every pause and shift and swing, but that Colin had held exactly the same pose for almost fifteen minutes now.

Without looking round, Richard advised, ‘You’d better turn your book the right way up.’

Colin started, and glanced down to check it. Of course it was fine. He turned to grin at Richard, both chagrined and amused. ‘How obvious am I being?’

‘I’d say no more than half the crew have figured it out by now. Possibly a third of the extras.’

‘And the cast?’

‘Oh, all the cast know,’ he lightly replied. The two of them sat there side by side, contemplating Bradley James. He was energy and enthusiasm, health and humour, beauty and brightness. All the things a young man should be. All the things another young man would like.

Colin sighed. ‘Have _you_ ever fallen for a straight guy?’

‘Alas, such things come to us all,’ Richard intoned.

‘It’s about the silliest thing I’ve ever done. I knew all along it was hopeless.’

‘It’s a perfectly understandable piece of foolishness. I’m sure someone put it more poetically, Colin, but we are all fools for love. Even those of us who are old enough to know better.’

Colin blessed him with a sweet gentle smile.

‘It’s a part of life,’ Richard continued, though he didn’t really feel he had anything to teach this man. ‘One of the best parts. You can find some wisdom in it, at least. But love for its own sake, within reason, can be enough. To really _feel_ love, that’s wonderful in itself. Whether or not you have cause to hope for its return.’

‘I know I don’t have any real cause to hope,’ Colin echoed wistfully. Though after a moment he turned his head just ever so slightly towards Richard as if wishing him to deny it.

Richard gave a sigh. ‘Well, I wouldn’t rule anything out entirely. Curiosity might do the work for you – but under the circumstances, it’s not likely to become something lasting or meaningful.’

After a moment, Colin nodded, and turned away again to focus on Bradley.

A light breeze pattered the leaves, toyed with the long grass, whispered through Gaius’s long hair. It was a refreshing breeze, as if it had wandered past the lake on the way up to the castle. As if it had seen an early autumn in northern lands before coming south.

Curious to know whether young people approached these matters any differently these days, and forever intrigued by Colin Morgan, and imagining him perfectly capable of answering _yes_ or _no_ or _maybe_ , Richard asked, ‘Would you give him one night, even if you knew that was all you could ever have?’

‘Yes,’ Colin replied with no doubt, no fear at all, but with no joy either. ‘Yes, though my heart would break to watch him walk away the next day.’

‘Well,’ he replied, perhaps a little too brusquely, ‘we all need a broken heart at least once in our prime, or we haven’t lived. If nothing else, it teaches you compassion.’

Colin turned to face Richard directly. ‘Would you, in the same circumstances? _Have_ you?’

He took a moment with that. But eventually offered, ‘Put it this way. My regrets tend to be about what I wasn’t brave enough to do, rather than about what I did.’

And Colin was watching him with those curious, discerning eyes. The young man was an odd mix of parts, some clearly visible, some held in reserve, and some barely guessed at perhaps even by Colin himself. At times Colin was entirely boyish, though at other times he had a presence and a perceptiveness and a wisdom far beyond his twenty–three years. But it was his youth, that was all. His youth and his inexperience. In all his long life, Richard hadn’t known anyone who had gotten a real grasp on their own identity before they reached thirty. Richard himself had taken far longer than that. Which was partly what had led to the regrets…

Caught under Colin’s ocean–deep gaze, Richard found himself prevaricating. ‘Of course, those days are long gone for me.’

But Colin just laughed, and murmured, ‘Yeah right.’

♦

### invitation

‘Come to lunch on Sunday,’ Richard finally blurted on their last full day in Pierrefonds. ‘I have a few old friends coming round. You’d be very welcome to join us.’

Colin had immediately smiled a happy _yes_ , but he said very politely, ‘If you’re sure I wouldn’t be in your way.’

‘Nonsense. It’s always good to mix up the old friends with the new.’

‘Thank you, yes. I’d be delighted.’

‘Well, when I say _friends_ , I use the broadest definition of the term, one that includes old sparring partners… Indeed, we’re an odd collection of fruits and nuts who know each other _far_ too well. But we do all have one thing in common. No, two things. Drama as well.’

‘I see,’ said Colin, with a twinkle in his eye, the corner of his mouth quirking up endearingly.

‘People who truly empathise with you can be few and far between. But don’t ghettoise yourself. You have an incredible talent, Colin, with which you can do _anything_ , and anyone who doesn’t judge you for that alone will soon find they’ve made a huge mistake.’

The boy ducked his head, very pleased and a bit bashful.

‘Sometimes it’s good to know you have friends who really do understand, that’s all I’m trying to say. And it’s different for you, of course. When I was your age, what I did in bed was illegal. The way I loved was despised. Everything was far more difficult. I’m not saying it’s easy for you, but…’

Colin was looking at him directly again. Serious, with a piquant note of sympathy. He nodded, finding that perfect line between appreciating Richard’s point and not presuming to understand. He had indeed grown up in a completely different world.

Richard chuckled. ‘Oh, listen to me ranting on… Come to lunch. I promise we’ll behave.’

‘You don’t have to do that,’ Colin assured him.

‘What, promise?’

‘Behave,’ the young man amended with a wink.

♦

### sunday

Colin arrived an hour early, bearing the most delicious looking frittata that he’d made himself, a bottle of surprisingly good wine, and a cotton carrier bag full of fresh bread from the markets, still fragrant with the oven’s warmth. ‘Bless you,’ was all Richard found to say, letting one hand settle on the young man’s arm.

‘What can I do to help?’

They shared a smile. ‘Well, the weather is surprisingly fine for this late in the year. Seeing as you’re here with your young limbs, I think we might venture to set up the table in the garden.’

‘Sure.’ So Colin obligingly carried the table out singlehandedly, then the chairs. Ferried out cutlery and crockery, and all the various luxuries and necessaries. Then the two of them worked side by side at the kitchen bench, cooking new potatoes, chopping and tossing salad. Richard imagined Gaius and Merlin in productive harmony like this, grinding and brewing, and consulting sundry books and each other…

The others were all fashionably late, of course, so Colin and Richard had already had time to put their feet up with glasses of wine and a smug feeling of a job well done. The mood was relaxed, and the whole lunch proved perfectly pleasant. Richard’s friends were curious about Colin, of course, but didn’t pry too much before returning to their own concerns. And Colin himself…

Colin himself, as always, hit exactly the right notes. Helping Richard in unobtrusive ways. Otherwise, sitting there tall and confident, with his legs crossed at the ankles. Quiet and respectful, humble yet friendly, and of course so very beautiful. Everyone else was impressed. Richard was beyond proud of the young man, and was glad he’d had the idea in the first place, and been brave enough to ask. He didn’t think any work opportunities would come of it immediately, as everyone was either already in the middle of a run or between projects, but something would happen eventually, and certainly Colin would make his own way from there.

Eventually people began leaving. Colin started gathering up the used cutlery and crockery, and taking it into the kitchen, stacking the dishwasher. Richard overheard a couple who lived in exactly the right direction offering Colin a lift home, but he politely refused. ‘I’m staying on for a while,’ Colin said easily. ‘I’ll help clear up, get the table back inside.’

And despite this perfectly reasonable explanation, assumptions were made. Glances were cast. Wistful, amused, sharp. Richard was astounded, though Colin remained cool and innocent, apparently unaware. Though how could he be? He was far too astute not to know what everyone was thinking now. Well, Richard needed to talk with his young friend, and knock any silly notions on the head.

There was now one remaining pair of guests, Michael and Darby. Michael was obliviously rattling on about his latest battles with ticketing, until at last it got to the point where Richard said, ‘Michael, do be a friend and push off, would you?’ And Darby obligingly bundled him out the door with a naughtily happy little smirk.

Which left Richard and Colin alone in the sudden quiet. Colin pottered around, clearing up as promised, while Richard stood there stranded, watching him.

Until at last he could bear it no longer, and as Colin came back past him, Richard murmured his name.

‘Yes?’ He paused there a moment, and then when there wasn’t an immediate response he turned to face Richard.

At last Richard said, ‘My dear boy…’

‘Is that what you want this afternoon?’ With his adorably winsome smile. ‘A boy?’

Richard frowned, and amended, ‘My dear young man…’

Colin immediately matured before his very eyes. This man had a great future ahead of him – and Richard was suddenly full of grief that he wouldn’t live to see it all.

But he protested, ‘There’s really no need for this. It’s not a matter of services rendered. And if any of those fruits and nuts starts hinting about casting couches, you can disregard it utterly. Did someone insinuate something? You’re very beautiful, and they’d just be trying their luck, that’s all.’

‘This afternoon isn’t about any of those things,’ said Colin, calm and sure. ‘It’s about you and me, Richard. It’s about two friends being together.’

‘That makes you possibly the most generous friend I’ve ever had. I’m over _three_ times your age, my dear… You can’t tell me it’s not pity.’

‘It’s not pity,’ he said, perfectly genuine. ‘I like you. And we’re friends.’

Although of course Colin was so very talented that Richard was no longer sure he could always read when it was an act.

‘And you pretty much said you’d take that one night, even if you knew that was all you could have.’

Richard sighed, for that meant Colin knew about Richard’s own foolishness.

‘You said –’

‘Oh, don’t tell me what I said. Something about regretting what I _haven’t_ done more than what I _have_ , I suppose.’

‘Yes.’

‘Let an old man preserve his dignity…’

‘Is that what you’d rather have? Dignity? Or d’you want love?’

Richard could feel himself surrendering. It would take a far far better man than he was to resist. ‘My dear young man…’ he whispered.

Colin nodded. ‘That’s what you want? This afternoon is for both of us, Richard. But I’ll be whatever you want me to be, do whatever you want…’

‘You. Colin Morgan. You amaze me, my dear. I want _you_ , if that’s even possible. If this afternoon is about both of us. Yes? If you can. Don’t play a role with me.’

‘I won’t,’ Colin promised. And he leant down and gently pressed his mouth to Richard’s – and then they were kissing, and it wasn’t gentle at all.

♦

### afternoon

Colin kneeling there on Richard’s bed, naked and utterly comfortable, with his thighs wide and his cock hanging heavily engorged and the weight of his balls just behind. And he was either totally innocent or completely wise in the way he looked down at Richard’s old body without flinching, as if it were just as miraculous as his own slim supple strength, just as magical as his own sweet smooth skin.

They watched each other for a time, until Colin’s cock stirred impatiently, and the young man leant forward, bent down to kiss Richard again, then trail his mouth down Richard’s sternum, down his belly, then further still until Colin was nuzzling his face – mouth and nose and chin, and every other part of his beautiful face – against Richard’s eager genitals, and the tender skin surrounding them, and the sensitivities of his thighs. Colin roamed and nudged, pressed and caressed, while Richard moaned appreciatively, surrendering any last thoughts of propriety or decorum. He reached a hand to take care of Colin in return, but the young man shifted his hindquarters away just far enough that Richard must content himself with stroking the long graceful line from his ribs to his waist to his sharp hip and long thigh.

Nevertheless, after a lovely while they were each of them as hard as the other. Colin turned his head to look up at Richard, eyes bright. ‘What would you like me to do?’ he asked, his tone lilting with beautiful promise.

‘Come up here,’ Richard asked. ‘I want to hold you in my arms. I want to feel all of you against me.’

Colin obligingly stretched out beside him, pressed up against him, kissing him, holding him, those arms and hands blessing him… All of that pliant youthful beauty caressing him. And then that wicked whisper again: ‘What would you like? Anything you want, Richard.’

‘Just your hand. Just your hand would be more than enough.’

‘You don’t wanna fuck me?’

‘Oh…’ he groaned, tempted despite himself. ‘No… No, let’s keep it simple, my dear.’

And so they made love together, each with a hand on the other, kissing generously, with Colin shifting beside him, over him, that slender limber body both wild and kind against Richard’s. And when the end came at last, Richard lost himself in Colin’s ocean–blue gaze, and the feelings were hardly a climax at all, certainly not a crisis, but were instead calm, and brought the most profound sense of utter peace.

♦

### evening

Richard sat in his sofa, with Colin stretched along the length of it, lying back in his arms. And Richard reflected that it was for moments like this he had bought this luxurious piece of furniture, this sinfully deep, comfortable, dark red velvet sofa – and yet it hadn’t seen such use at all until now. The two of them had been reading poetry to each other, and Colin was presently delivering Spenser in his beautiful sweet brogue.

‘ _What though the sea with waves continual_ | _Do eat the earth, it is no more at all_ | _Nor is the earth the less, or loseth ought_ … Oh!’ Colin exclaimed, as he scanned the next line. ‘This is what Alan Rickman said to Kate Winslet in _Sense and Sensibility_.’

‘Yes,’ Richard agreed. ‘He wove quite the spell.’

‘He certainly had _me_ at hello,’ Colin commented, casting that endearingly wicked little smile up at Richard.

Richard stroked a hand across that thick dark hair, then tangled his fingers in it.

Colin closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the caress. But then he continued, at a leisurely thoughtful pace, ‘ _For whatsoe’er from one place doth fall_ | _Is with the tide unto another brought_ | _For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought_.’

The words hung there in the early evening glow. And then at last Colin twisted around in Richard’s embrace, and pushed up close for another kiss, and they held each other, Colin’s hand slipping down to tease Richard into pleasure again, Richard’s hand doing likewise for his young friend. And this time, when they came, their faces were pressed together cheek to cheek, forehead to forehead, so they shared the panting intensity of it, the muffled groans, and their joy burned bright.

Afterwards they cuddled for a long while as the evening finally began to cool. They were quiet together, and content.

Until Colin’s mobile went off, startling them both – and he picked it up with a muttered apology that it might be his mum. When he saw the display, he put it back down on the coffee table, and when it finally quit ringing, Colin quietly said, ‘Bradley.’

‘Shouldn’t you have taken it, then?’

Colin shrugged. He was sitting up on the sofa with his legs curled under him now, quite separate from Richard. ‘He’ll leave a message on voicemail. He always does.’

Richard let his hand rest on Colin’s arm for a moment, and then took it away again. He said, very softly, ‘I must let you go now. You’d better call him back.’

‘It’s your day, Richard. _Our_ day together.’

‘But it’s over now, my dear. At my age,’ Richard commented lightly, ‘you are always aware that this time might be the last. I wouldn’t have any regrets at all, if that proved to be true.’

Colin smiled at him, pleased and bashful.

‘I trust that you don’t have any regrets either, Colin.’

‘No, of course not. None at all. Not if you don’t.’

‘If you only knew how close I am to breaking into a chorus of _Save the Best for Last_ , you wouldn’t need to ask that.’

Colin chuckled under his breath, and leant in for one more kiss. A poignant farewell kiss; it was sweet but it was already over even as it began. They were interrupted again as Colin’s phone beeped, no doubt indicating that Bradley had indeed left a message.

‘You should call him back, my dear. And you’d better be on your way, or you’ll run the risk of missing the last Tube.’

A last wistful smile as they stood at the front door; a last wistful kiss. Colin didn’t say anything, but his ocean–blue eyes were fond and warm and grateful.

Richard returned to the front room, and went over to the window to watch Colin step lightly down the steps and out onto the pavement.

Colin was already talking with Bradley on the mobile, sounding almost exuberant. His voice carried clearly through the quiet autumn evening. ‘No, I’m just leaving Richard’s now. … It’s been great! … Heh. Maybe next time. But only if you come as my date! … Oh, yeah _right_ – you so would _not_!’ And his happily filthy chuckle made Richard smile with fellow feeling.

He sent Colin a kind wish as the young man turned the street corner and disappeared. Then Richard went to sit outside in the darkening garden, contemplating the last of the twilight. ‘Yes,’ Richard murmured to himself. ‘Yes. A thousand times _yes_ , though my heart would break to watch him walk away.’

Eventually the cool air prompted him back inside. Richard went upstairs to his room, and undressed again. Lay himself down in the bed he had lately shared with his last, best love. And gave himself over to a peaceful sleep.

♦


End file.
